this is not for one of my relatives (well i guess not yet anyway).

tell me some funny funeral stories.

come on i'm counting on ya.

I saw a coffin tip over once, but it wasn't really funny.

I only have angry stories...sorry.

Uhhh... been to a few, and can't think of anything funny happening. Well, once my cousin and I spent most of the time talking about his new mustang, but that's not really too funny either.

at my great-grandmother's funeral i had a zit right in the hitler-moustache zone, dead center, with a gargantuan whitehead on top and my steadfast refusal to pop it really drove my old man bonkers.

What, were you saving it for something? You gotta pop that shit, man, funeral or no.

Coulda made a game out of it... try to hit the row in front of you...

my wife's grandfather passed away a year ago. we went to the funeral home and met up with her sisters and their husbands. we walked into a room where there was a body, waiting for people to arrive. well, conversation led to some laughter and joking around, and we were getting a bit loud i guess.

the funeral director then came in and informed us that we were in the wrong room.

nah, you can't pop'em, that just leads to the long-term red blotch, i prefer letting nature take its course.

(gag reflex)

It's a battle, and one you must win.

Who died, or dare we ask?

When my dad's stepfather passed, none of his brothers and sisters wanted anything to do with it (they hated this guy for daring to marry their mother, who was widowed at like 40 years old) except my dad, who generally liked the guy. With him not having any other family, dad and I figured it was our job to give him a proper burial.

So we go to the cemmetary where my dad's parents are buried, grab a couple of shovels off our trucks, dig a nice hole at my grandmothers feet, dump the ashes in, look at each other, smile, cover it back up, jump back in our trucks and go home.

I remember vividly that we were going opposite directions and as I looked over to wave bye to my dad, he had the most bemused, devilish grin on his face.....

all of my funeral stories are either mildly depressing, dorky and cheese-ridden, or lifted from scary movie 3. chase that zit story is the grossest thing I’ve ever heard. Even better is that your pops was freaking out over it.

Can't believe yer dad didn't just stab your lip with a safety pin.

Only funeral I've been to was my dad's. I guess that doesn't qualify as funny. But I did bring my gay lover.

My grandfather's funeral was the first time I noticed my dad's attempt at a comb-over. That shit was funny.

After my dad's stepfather died there was a proper church service after which there was a funeral procession to the cemetary. I was about half way in the procession of about 10 cars, all of which displayed those little funeral flags on their vehicles. I guess I let a little too much room in between myself and the next car so some idiot in a hurry in manages to sneak into the funeral procession and begins to start honking, as apparently we're going too slow for him with our hearst. I honk back yell, wave etc for him to get out of the line. He then guns it into an adjacent parking lot, gets out of his car and starts screaming at me to come on out for a fight. Road rage in a funeral procession.

It was pretty funny.

The best story is my uncle in NYC. He died suddenly of a heart attack at 40 something. He left behind three ex-wives. All three of them fought about who should take prominence as "the wife." It doesn't sound funny but in context it was great. They said stuff like, "I was married to him first", "yeah, but I was married to him longer", "but he was living with me when he died." It was a huge embarrassing moment for their family because it took place minutes before the ceremony, and was quite loud.

At my grandmother's funeral, me, my sister and her boyfriend at the time had all chipped in for a floral arrangement. So we got to the funeral home and we're sitting there and I'm looking at our arrangement and how much smaller they were than all of the other ones and I said to my sister's boyfriend, "all these other flowers sure make ours look like a booger, huh?".

(goosebumps)

!0 years ago one of my best friends, Lindsay, OD'd in the Dominican Republic right after we graduated from high school. The funeral was a madhouse what seemed like every student and teacher and parent from our highschool was in attendance. My friends and I were in a total daze, upset and confused at the size of the service. I barely cried through the whole service and was able to hold myself together quite nicely.
After the memeorial service there was this huge line to pay your condolences to the fam. My good friend and I waited forever behind people who barely knew Lindsay. When I got to the front of the line, his Stepdad (who was a bonafied total cock), came up and bearhugged me exclaiming "finally! A face I know!"
Well that was it for my composure, I lost it and BLEW SNOT ALL OVER HIS SHOULDER! So there we are, Bill trying to release me from his bearhug, and me maintaining the embrace franticly trying to wipe my snotty mess off of his navy blazer. He had to ditch the blazer later that day.

yeah when it's me versus the old man logic sometimes takes a backseat to driving the dude apeshit. this funeral was for one of my fiancee's aunts, who died in a car accident because some dipshit decided to do 100 on the highway and mistimed his dismount. she left behind two grown daughters and some grandkids. the weirdest part was that this was definitely the aunt that EVERYONE was least close to so a lot of it felt like feigned sympathy from all sides. there was a bloody reception afterwards, for gods sake, at which time one of her uncles reminded me that last time he's seen me i didn't have a driver's license and drank all of his beer and made kate drive me home. then he showed me where the beer was and told me that he was "cashing in" at our wedding so the shit'd better be both cold and plentiful. it wasn't the most somber of occasions. if and when one of my sisters dies before me i'm going to run around cutting the tongues out of screaming babies just before wrenching my eyeballs out with a mellonscooper out of grief. this event, instead, fell just below a smaller bar mitzvah in terms of a spread provided.

that is so awesome. jesus between that and the ashtray, you must be the ideal WORST HUSBAND MATERIAL EVER.

ashtray?

I think he meant shoehorn?

Something about a birthday or anniversary gift. It was offensive to the ladies here, when you shared the story.